


Gnossienne

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Accidental Marriage Proposals, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canon Queer Relationship, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Historical Accuracy Only If You Squint and Twirl Around the Room Six Times, Humour, Idiots in Love, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Kink Meme, M/M, Malta, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sassy Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, The Author Striving for Historical Accuracy and Hoping for the Best, What Happened in Malta (The Old Guard)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: "Isaac offered to find us rings at a decent price. He used the wordcompetitiveand wiggled his eyebrows after." Oh, hewould. "He congratulated me on my good fortune," he tacks on, glancing up sharply, but it's short-lived."You would be lucky to have me," Yusuf replies before he's quite thought the words through.Nicolò shakes his head a little, frowning. "What is this?" he finally asks. Then, "What did you do?" He looks tired, as if he's the innocent bystander here.And, well, Yusuf could correct him right about now and explain his behaviour to him. But, instead, his mouth decides on, "I watched you offer me a fish in marriage."Nicolò accidentally proposes marriage. As you do.(Loosely inspired bythisKink Meme prompt.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 74
Kudos: 701





	Gnossienne

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. _Gnossienne no. 1_ is my favourite piece of "classical" music, but I want you to know this was entirely written while listening to _Shake That Brass_ on loop for hours.
> 
> 2\. This story doesn't fulfil the prompt it was written for, hence why it was merely inspired by it. I just couldn't make it work.
> 
> 3\. [BeesKnees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesKnees/pseuds/BeesKnees) posted [a heart not made to be so still](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027533), which is a genuine fill for the prompt, besides being The Sweetest story. Please go read it immediately!
> 
> 4\. I consulted [this page](https://www.visitmalta.com/en/wedding-lore) for the bits of QUOTE UNQUOTE accuracy in this, but, honestly, take everything with a grain of salt. IDEK. (Also, I have a weird relationship with halva, so ignore me if in the next fic I have everybody hate it on principle.)

Later, Nicolò calls it an accident. Yusuf calls him a fool. They don't speak for two days.

Granted, it's old man Isaac's youngest daughter, Zainab, who leaves out the pot with chunks of the halva with bits of pistachio Yusuf likes best right by his elbow as he's tending their market stall. And it's old man Isaac whom Yusuf sends to inform Nicolò that Yusuf will not make it for their midday meal. But Nicolò decides, all on his own, to bring the food to Yusuf, as well as make it the baked tuna with mint sprigs Yusuf has been careful not to praise too highly, lest Nicolò's head should swell further than it already has by virtue of Yusuf being physically incapable of restraining most of his sounds of pleasure at the food he prepares them daily. For a Frank who didn't know his elbow from his arse when it came to seasoning when they first arrived on the island, Yusuf has to confess, if solely within the confines of his own head, that Nicolò's cooking is not... unpleasant.

But that's neither here nor there.

The fact of the matter is, Nicolò enters the marketplace just as the crowd is dying down, then proceeds to round the stall and appear by Yusuf's side within moments, unceremoniously presenting his fish for all to see. It just so happens that Zainab is currently the one sent by her father to relieve Yusuf from his place behind the stall. Almost through a haze of embarrassment and bad luck Yusuf watches as her shoulders push back and her chest fills with air, and then she's gasping rather loudly something about a gold ring. And Yusuf doesn't understand for the length of a couple of seconds _before he does_.

He makes his excuses rather quickly after that. No doubt news will spread within minutes throughout the entire marketplace— _the entire village_ , he thinks helplessly—but he and Nicolò don't have to be here once that occurs. A confused Nicolò, it turns out, is dauntingly difficult to manoeuvre along, but they make it home eventually with Nicolò asking him to explain what this is about only twice. Yusuf considers it a success.

The next day, he's trepidatious about what will greet Nicolò upon reaching the village to trade their fresh goat cheese. The weekly marketplace means Yusuf can avoid rumours comfortably, but they can't wait on trading their household goods for days on end. He actually considers approaching Nicolò about this, but, while breaking their fast, he catches his eye (completely by accident) and holds his stare (rather less accidentally) for far too long, and then imagines himself even endeavouring to explain any of this. The dread almost chokes him. He muffles it into his milk bowl and vows to abstain from idiotic ideas for the time being.

Not that any of this was Yusuf's idea. Neither was it Nicolò's, he understands that perfectly, but the man is also _perfectly_ frustrating, barely more than a nuisance, never mind they're stuck together due to the unforeseen circumstances of their inability to die properly.

By the time Yusuf's mind has abandoned thoughts of how much better his lot would be under a different set of variables, Nicolò is already on his way out the door with a flighty goodbye, unwarned regarding their current situation, not that Yusuf has managed to figure out what he could possibly say which wouldn't result in far more mortifying questions being posed in his general direction. 

Perhaps it was all an exaggeration, unworthy of being repeated. He looks after the goats and works their garden with that in mind, as if repeating it to himself will make it true. He attempts to void his head of all thoughts of yesterday for the duration of prayer, and almost succeeds. He feels as if he's failed anyway. But such thinking doesn't bring water out of the well or tends the stew while it cooks.

Nicolò is panting down the path to their front door just as Yusuf is bringing the boiling pot inside. He's glad, even from afar, to notice that Nicolò's satchel is particularly full today. He decides that bodes well.

It doesn't. Oh, not at all.

In fact, the moment Nicolò steps into the house a few short minutes after Yusuf, the first thing out of his mouth happens to be the immortal words, "Are we betrothed?" The satchel falling from his shoulder to the ground is decidedly apt punctuation.

Honestly, if anything, Yusuf is thankful the pot was already set aside out of reach.

Apprehension suffuses his bones down to the marrow. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it once more. What comes out is: "What," a little pathetically, and not even a question at that. He does follow it up with: "What were you told?" Which _is_ a question, and a rather good one, if he does say so himself, because Nicolò is certainly not saying anything, too busy frowning and puckering his lips in that way of his which has Yusuf a little bit distracted for a moment there.

After the puckering's done, his lips curl in that other way, which is far less distracting, mainly because it often results in silly arguments neither wins and Yusuf's chest feeling heavy for days on end for no apparent reason.

Nicolò chooses to eventually answer his question, though. He doesn't meet his eyes while he does so, however, which is instantly worrying, although Yusuf isn't exactly certain why.

He says, "Isaac offered to find us rings at a decent price. He used the word _competitive_ and wiggled his eyebrows after." Oh, he _would_. "He congratulated me on my good fortune," he tacks on, glancing up sharply, but it's short-lived.

"You would be lucky to have me," Yusuf replies before he's quite thought the words through.

Nicolò shakes his head a little, frowning. "What is this?" he finally asks. Then, "What did you do?" He looks tired, as if he's the innocent bystander here.

And, well, Yusuf could correct him right about now and explain his behaviour to him. But, instead, his mouth decides on, "I watched you offer me a fish in marriage." Granted, not the best explanation, but not completely untrue.

At Nicolò's blank reaction, he explains, "You should pay a great deal more attention to the customs here. Your gesture yesterday could be... misinterpreted." It goes without saying that it obviously was.

Chewing on his lip, Nicolò regards him for a long moment. "It must have been an accident." He sounds dubious, but perhaps willing to believe he mistepped.

Yusuf sighs, glancing to the side where the stew is settling. "You were a little fool." He wants to add more, but a stark intake of breath has him swiveling his head back just in time to watch the blood drain from Nicolò's face, who then mutters something unintelligible before picking his satchel up and heading to the other side of the room to empty it of its contents.

Preferring to leave the matter lie, Yusuf doesn't engage him in conversation, and Nicolò himself doesn't seem to have much to say either during or after their meal, both silently moving about the room until darkness finally descends and they succumb to sleep on their separate cots.

In the morning, as is their habit, Nicolò wakes him for prayer with soft words and a shake of his shoulder, but, following this, he finds ways to avoid interacting in any capacity.

By the second day, Yusuf realises they've been giving each other more silence than actual words, Yusuf following Nicolò's lead without conscious thought. Once he realises this is what they've been doing, it infuriates him for a moment's time, how objectively stupid this is. He lets it go, but the confusion remains. It settles in his gut and bubbles up like bile in his throat. He goes about his day with it lodged in his insides, until finally it bursts forth as Nicolò clears up their supper plates.

"Have I offended you?" he manages without looking Nicolò's way, because that way lies speaking out of turn, as in more than he'd ever be willing to say to Nicolò's face.

When he doesn't receive an immediate answer, he raises his head, finding Nicolò staring at him, a wound on his features. It's startling, but he doesn't get to ask before he's told, "I could ask the same." At his, no doubt, confused expression, Nicolò adds, "I did not mean to embarrass you. Two days ago. In the market." His eyes speak of earnestness. He swallows heavily, as if waiting for a pronouncement of death.

Yusuf sighs. "You did nothing of the sort." It's silly to think of now. "Better make sure you don't gift any more fish to handsome men," he tries to joke. Wants to show it's forgotten, whatever this was.

But Nicolò, with the swiftness with which he once plunged his longsword into Yusuf's abdomen, mutters, "You're the only handsome man I could ever see."

Time stops oddly, in that Yusuf feels himself breathing, his heart jackrabbiting inside his chest, watches Nicolò's chest rise and fall, and surely time is necessary for such feats, while also knowing fully that his own blood has frozen inside his veins and his heart is pumping against nothing. Then his blood returns to its proper slopes and valleys within him, and his heart nearly beats out through his ribcage from the pressure.

Looking down, he realises it did not escape his body. Glancing at Nicolò, he thinks maybe it's been living outside of himself this entire time.

They approach each other like scared animals, though fear is far from what Yusuf is feeling. But the kiss comes naturally enough, Nicolò holding a clean rag between them, Yusuf holding out his heart. Nicolò's lips are slick from the evening's meal. Saffron on his tongue. Pepper. Then, after a long time, just him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun, ain't gonna lie! :D
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. Kudos and comments, as usual, greatly appreciated. I know this is a little different from my usual fare, but *shrugs*
> 
> Tumblr: [rhubarbdreams](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/)


End file.
